Father Anderson's Death
by death-in-the-orchard
Summary: If I had been more sadistic when writing Ups and Downs, this might have been Alucard's response to Father Anderson's execution. Yes, there is an obvious relationship between the two in this. Written several months ago. Edited today. Out Of Character.


The sheets were perfectly white, like the cloth a baptized babe is swaddled in after the Holy oils and water have cleansed it of its original sin. Anderson lay on these sheets in the isolated, white walled room. Human presences, incapable of perfect silence, made themselves known by the closed door. Integra gazed upon the dead man coldly while Walter stood by her side. Maxwell could not look at the priest, so his eyes bore the image of the un-telling features, the side of the vampire's face that he could see. All eyes were attracted to the pale creature as steps brought it forward, towards the bed and the man that lay on it. Integra followed his footsteps when he reached the side of the bed, to see the demon's response. But he held no expression as he observed the closed eyes and the tanned face, unadorned and strangely naked without the bronze glasses. A white glove moved to the face and gently touched Anderson's cheek, freezing the woman's stare as well as the ones coming from the door. The vampire stroked the priest's face with the back of his fingers and then moved closer, his eyes changing as he touched the paladin's skin. Disgusted, Integra's eyes narrowed as her mouth creased.

"What are you doing?"

The vampire frowned, rubbing the cheek gently. "He's cold."

As if the word was the manifestation of its definition, the room became chilled and eyes traced the soft, circular motions of the vampire's hands. It was as if he was trying to warm the man.

Alucard leaned over the face, examining it and touching every detail reserved for this single, unique identity. "Anderson is always warm."

Integra blinked, her brow puckering with a hard frown. "Of course he's cold, Alucard." The woman was surprised to find that Alucard did not seem to hear her as his head tilted. A sense of peace that should not have been present in the creature's face filled the undead features. Gloved hands moved the unresponsive shoulders. Confused, the humans watched without speaking as the peace turned into uncertainty for the vampire. Alucard blinked, eyes focusing on the familiar face of the being he cherished more than any other earthly form.

"Anderson…" The hands pressed on the shoulders once more and then one broke away to cup the priest's jaw, whispers passing over the dead man. "Wake up."

Eyes widened as thought died, reason fled in the wake of this moment as the demon lowered himself to the ground, kneeling as his arms rested on the bed for a moment, and then moved to touch the paladin's arm and to pet his hair. The chill infected the living bodies, sending shivers down their individual spines, branching out to numb their limbs. The beast continued to speak to the priest.

"Anderson, wake up… Wake up, Anderson." Fingers caressed a cheek and then traced down to the man's shoulders. Alucard leaned forward, hands fixed to the human's chest. His face was close to Anderson's. "Love…wake up, my love." The hand smoothed the blonde hair, allowing the florescent lighting to shine upon the reflective gold. "Wake up, it's morning. You love the sun, my love…wake up. I will go see it with you if you wake up, my love. Anderson…? Love?"

Integra's body trembled and her feet tripped, causing her to stagger as she retreated from the scene. Shocked, her heart and lungs frozen, so cold and chilled, spikes of ice skewering her from within... A hand covered her mouth as the muscles in her face spasmed, she gasped for a breath her body demanded, her lungs bleeding, punctured by the merciless, freezing, agonizing ice. The men were pale, their eyes filling with horror. The woman reclaimed her steps and marched to the bed, hissing venomously at the creature, breathing with her bleeding lungs. Ice inside her, ice on her lips... "Stop it!" Her voice pierced the room, an exclamation that erased the vampire's tender voice. Blue eyes were wide with fear and fury, burning down at her servant beyond the ice. "He's **dead**, Alucard. Stop it! _He's_ _dead_!"

Unmoving eyes blinked, staying with the man's face. A finger outlined the priest's lips. "He's sleeping…." There was a dismayed pause that was broken by the vampire's persistence. His voice was so gentle… "Wake up, Anderson. Don't sleep." Her fire was gone… Integra stared at the moving hand…all anger…gone. "My love, wake up my love. Wake up and walk with me. Tell me good morning. Listen to the birds with me, the birds here have such nice voices…you like to listen to the morning birds. You love them…they remind you of you children… Anderson…Anderson…?"

"STOP IT! STOP IT, ALUCARD!" Integra shrieked, a shaking, broken voice standing as her own. She had retreated, unconsciously, from the vampire and was holding her face with her claw-like fingers, staring at the red coat, the twisted, sinister monster she knew. The beast paused for a moment, and then rose to his feet, giving a sense of relief to the woman that was savagely stripped away as he removed his trench coat and draped it over the unresponsive form, carefully covering the man up to his neck.

A hand grazed a tan cheek.

So Anderson wouldn't be cold.

This was too much or the woman, she backed farther away from the demon and was received by her butler who had come to her aid. He would not look at the vampire as it kneeled and rested its head in its arms on the bed. Walter touched his mistress' shoulder as she turned to him, pale and unsteady, somehow distant. Maxwell, beyond disbelief, stared dumbly at the vampire as it spoke, taking the humans' eyes once more.

"You win Judas Priest. I'll let you sleep, and I'll sleep with you. I'll sleep with you until you wake up…my love...my dearest, _dearest_ love."

Integra was forced to leave the room, unable to bear the sight, unable to suffer the ice, her bleeding lungs, her tattered heart, for another moment. No… In another moment…in another moment, it would _kill her_. Walter went to follow the woman, but Maxwell, who had been forgotten, spoke to the butler, a snagging whisper.

"Shouldn't you stop him?"

Walter's eyes met with Maxwell's, and he held the gaze for a time. Then he moved his eyes to the door and opened it carefully. "He will come around on his own… Unfortunately…he already knows that Father Anderson is dead… So please…leave him, let him be alone…for now. …Alucard doesn't respond well to force."

With that, Walter left the room. He was accompanied by Maxwell who now understood the unspoken warning. An unstable monster was a dangerous monster…and knowing the vampire's character, blood was likely to be the price for carelessness or impatience. And Enrico Maxwell…didn't feel like dying today.

In the room, the gentle, undead whisper spoke to the dead man.

Neither of the bodies' hearts beat, but one was condemned to walk and wake in a continued existence, an existence eternally apart from the Holy mortal.

A truly eternal, desolate, and painful damnation.


End file.
